


Shit Storm

by Judopixie



Category: Colditz (1972)
Genre: Blood, Broken Bones, Cave-In, Claustrophobia, Concussions, Drowning, Even Mohn has feelings, Kissing, M/M, Nightmares, Oral Sex, Rescue Missions, handjobs, lots of them - Freeform, sex puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 12:53:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4020583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Judopixie/pseuds/Judopixie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The castle collapses after heavy rain and many tunnels dug into its foundations, here's how our favourite mostly-harmless-POWs-and-guards react.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shit Storm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crimsondust](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsondust/gifts).



> In S2E2 Dick said he once dreamed that the castle had collapsed, I decided that this obviously meant that the gods of Fanfiction wanted me to write this so here we are. Chapters are very short so it's just one long thing.

Colonel Preston looked over at the shivering man beside him. Mohn was soaked to the skin and even in unconsciousness he was shivering. He'd strapped up the man's wrist as best he could but he was no doctor. The water still dripped down even if they couldn't hear the rain. He covered the German Major in his great coat and settled down to wait. His mind wondered to the previous events.  
They had been in Mohn's office, him discussing a minor charge one of the officers had brought up when there had been an almighty crack and the room had crashed down around them. Then he'd woken up here, piss wet through with a throbbing headache and a shivering, unconscious second in command curled next to him. Preston's arm was wrapped tightly with the Major's tie so he must've been awake at some point but he had been out before Preston had woken and who knew how long that might've been.

***

Ulmann starred at the chaos around him. He'd been woken by an orderly in the shattered remains of the courtyard. Everything around him lay in ruins. The few prisoners outside of the courtyard were huddled in one corner.   
"Where's the medical officer?" He asked the orderly.   
"We don't know Herr Hauptman." Replied the boy. Ulmann thoughthis name was Zeinik.    
"Who is dealing with the casualties?"  
"Captain Marquez and Corporal Lorten sir. You should let them look at that sir," said Zeinik, pointing to Ulmann's arm. True enough it was bleeding.   
"I will later. How much of the castle has collapsed?"  
"All of it that we can see sir."  
"That you can see?"  
"Yes sir. We think some of the cellars may have survived but they're buried in rubble."  
Ulmann pinched the bridge of his nose.   
"Have the senior officers survived?"  
"If they have they're trapped sir."  
They had, by this time, reached the small group of men being tended to. Something seemed off about it.  
"Who is in charge here?" Asked Ulmann.   
"You sir."  
"What about Major..." It clicked. "Where is Major Mohn?"  
The men looked at each other, then slowly pointed to the pile of rubble.   
Ulmann swallowed. "Very well. Send someone down to the town to find a working telephone. We'll need to inform the higher authorities, and the Kommandant if possible."  
"Yes sir."  
Ulmann turned to the others. They would need to make a shelter and some kind of fire. Then begin the digging to find any survivors. His arm throbbed. It would be a long day.

***

A deep moan made Preston look over to Mohn. The man's green eyes opened heavily.   
"Mama?" He asked, confused. "Mama, ich fühle mich krank."  
Preston almost laughed despite himself. He never had Major Horst Mohn down as a mummy's boy.   
"Major? Can you hear me?"  
The Major blinked up at him, something in his brain trying to click into place.   
"Colonel... Preston?" He asked, timidly.   
"Yes, are you alright? You've been out for a while."  
"Out?"  
"Asleep."  
"Oh. Yes, I'm fine." He tried to sit up and cried out when he put his weight on his wrist.   
"Yes, I think that's broken. I tried to strap it up but I'm not sure how much good it'll do you."  
"It's better than nothing."   
They drifted off into awkward silence. Now he was sitting up Preston could see Mohn had a large gash on his temple and   
"Are you ok?" Mohn asked after a while. "Your... your arm. It looks bad."  
"It's throbbing a little."  
"I'm sorry."  
"Not your fault."   
Mohn stood up, swaying as dizziness spun around him for a moment. The nausea was getting worse too but it was not yet unbearable.  
"Where are we?"  
"In relation to the sun or to the rest of the castle?"  
Mohn gave him a filthy look.   
"We were in your office, you can still see part of the filing cabinet over there." Preston said. "In relation to the rest of the castle, whatever's left of it, I don't know."  
"We must be quite... deep?" Why did he have to be trapped with a man who didn't speak German?  
"Why?"  
"Can't hear the rain."  
Preston frowned.  
"If we were close to the surface The rain would be echoing loudly. Very loudly." Mohn swallowed back the growing nausea. That was a lot of rubble on top of them. One slipped stone and it would...   
"You're not going to be sick are you?" Preston asked.   
"Of course not." Mohn turned back to him.  
"Thank you for dealing with my arm."  
"It's not very good. You'd be better off with my brother. He's a doctor. Caring yet efficient his professor said."  
"And you're related?" Preston smirked and was surprised with a smirk back.  
"We'd both be better off with someone else and we both wish we were with someone else. Don't they say that common ground is the start of all love afairs?"  
"If we're going to resort to that I'll go it alone."  
Mohn sat down heavily.   
"We should try to get to the medical wing." He said.   
"How are we going to do that?" Preston asked.   
"Choose a wall."  
Preston pointed to the one opposite him.   
"We're going through that one then."

***

Dick and Tim breathed a sigh of relief as Simon appeared through the hole. The tunnels were dark and they were knee deep in water.   
"Where d'you think we are?" Simon asked.   
"I don't know." Dick replied. "That's the stairs to the library but that looks like Ulmann's desk."  
"Well if we keep going along we've got to hit it eventually right?" Tim added.   
"Not necessarily. It looks like there's more than one layer, it could take days to explore every tunnel." Dick explained.   
"Ulmann's office isn't far from the medical wing, if we keep following the debris we'll get there." Simon reasoned.   
They set off, Dick leading the way.   
"Have you seen anyone else?" Tim asked after a while.   
"No one yet. It's not been long though." Simon replied.   
They carried on in silence until they hit a dead end.   
"Let's go back to the library stairs." Dick said. "Plan a new route from there."  
Simon and Tim had just passed the dead end when there was a groaning creak. Then there was a crack.

***

The candle lit up only a little of the area around George. Beds and cabinets of medical supplies filled the room. He tried not to think about the dead body in the corner of the room.   
His hip felt as though it had been set on fire, he couldn't move his leg. He was lucky to have woken up here, he wouldn't have made it otherwise. He'd shuffled over to try and wake the MO. He hadn't found a pulse on him, nor on the German orderly sprawled nearby. The infirmary was enclosed on all sides and the air was silent but for the rain. It was eerie. He hoped someone else would come along soon. He actually thought he heard voices a while ago but he must've imagined it.   
He was fairly sure his hip was broken. He'd never be able to move out of the way if anything fell.   
His head jerked towards the wall to his left. That had definitely been a crash.

***

Ulmann shivered. The rain was kept out by his leather coat but the wind was bitter. The wall had collapsed and no one had managed to get out yet. He had been bandaged up by a young NCO called William Williams and they were trying to build some sort of shelter for the wounded. The rain drove down hard and the men were soaking but there was no point trying to build a fire until they had a covering. The lean-to they were building was propped on one of the more vertical piles of rubble. As they'd removed some of the planks to make the structure they'd found three men. Two dead, one trying hang on. He'd died twenty minutes later.   
Ulmann barely avoided wincing as he hoisted another plank onto the lean-to. The rain showed no signs of letting up and they would have to start some sort of rescue effort soon or the men trapped could drown.

***

"Do you need a rest?" Preston asked.   
Mohn was almost impossibly pale in the light from the make shift torch they had burning. He kept swallowing and had swayed on his feet more than once. Mohn shook his head but Preston shoved him down onto a piece of rubble anyway. He felt the young man's forehead and was relieved that, though sweaty, it was a normal temperature. His wrist had swollen further and he winced whenever he accidentally used it.   
Preston tore a strip from his sleeve and pressed it to Mohn's head. The cut had started bleeding again from the exertion. Mohn put an arm around his stomach and clenched his jaw.   
"Are you alright?" Preston asked him. Mohn didn't answer but he twisted his hand in his uniform and took deep but ragged breaths so Preston took that for a no. He was suddenly curious. "Does it still hurt?"   
Mohn looked up at him, surprised. He swallowed and nodded slowly.   
"It never stopped." He said. He took a deep breath and stood up. "Let's go."  
"Are you sure?"  
"Of course."  
"You're not looking steady."  
"I'm fine." Mohn took hold of the nearest stone he could hold with one hand and pulled. There was an almighty crash and the upper right hand corner of the wall gave way. Mohn and Preston coughed as the dust flew around them. Once it had settled they saw a room behind the wall. The tiniest flame glowed in the corner.

***

George looked up as the wall to his left crashed down, leaving a hole big enough to climb through. There were sounds of coughing coming from the other side. He raised his candle and strained to see who was there.   
"Hello?" He called.  
"Brent? Is that you?" Colonel Preston's voice came through the gap. There was the sound of a match striking and the tiny flame lit the right hand side of Preston's face. He put one leg through the hole and turned to look over his shoulder. Then he paused and frowned. He climbed back through and Brent could hear voices, Colonel Preston was asking someone if they were alright. The voices came closer and Major Mohn appeared through the hole. He was so white that his lips looked blue. He looked as though he might keel over any second.   
"Brent." Preston set Mohn on a piece of masonry and moved over to him. "Where are you hurt?"  
"Hip." George hissed. He nodded at Mohn and lowered his voice. "What's wrong with him?"  
"Broken wrist, I think he might have a concussion as well."  
"But he's bent double."  
"His stomach. Is there anyone else here?"  
"The MO's body is over there, an orderly's body over in the other corner."  
Preston looked to the bodies and went over to Mohn.   
"Can you help me move them?" He asked. Mohn groaned. "Just a few more minutes, then you can rest."  
Mohn stood up, albeit shakily, and moved to the first corpse. Preston took him under the arms and Mohn used his good arm to lift him by the trousers. After some struggling he and Preston managed to manoeuvre him through the gap. The German orderly was more troublesome. They lift was successful but the smell of blood from the mashed in face hit Mohn like a dodge ball. He dropped the body before running to the corner. He retched once, twice. Then he vomited as Preston patted his back. After a few minutes they went back to move the second body. Preston guided him back to his piece of masonry and he collapsed on it. George Brent questioned Preston but he dismissed him. Mohn vaguely saw Preston rooting around for something but he couldn't think what. His eyes flickered shut as Preston moved back with some kind of box in his hands.

***

Dick just barely pulled out in time. The heavy looking plank above the passage had broken in half and had been heading straight towards him. A crunch, some thumps and a lot of dust later the beam had settle and a small opening to a lower level, which water was now gushing through, had revealed itself.   
"Where do you think that goes?" Simon asked.   
"Down." Tim deadpanned. Simon glared at him. "Well look Simon, if it's down it's not out. That water must be waist high."  
"Looks like it heads back the way we came." Dick intervened. "There was a dead end back there, maybe this goes under it."  
They agreed and took turns to slide down the slope. As Tim predicted the water was waist high, chest deep on Simon. They slowly waded through the freezing water, Simon wincing as his ankle thrached, a word he had created to describe the pain between an ache and a throb. It felt like they'd been walking for hours when they heard voices.

***

Ulmann's face was grim as he helped the men they'd just found out of the hole. They were cold and scared and bleeding, they're clothing damp and torn. One of the officers on medical duty led them away to the now somewhat building shaped construction they were using as a rest shelter. He saw another taking some of the little spare clothing they had from the side of the fire pit and take it to them. They'd only just managed to clear the outer wall enough for someone to get out to the town. They'd used the stones to build most of the building they were  housing the injured and resting in.   
"Ulmann?"  
The aforementioned man whirled around. There, stunned and alarmed, stood the Kommandant.   
"Sir." Ulmann saluted.   
"What happened?" Asked the smaller man.   
Ulmann ran a hand through his hair. "The castle collapsed." He responded lamely.  
"I hadn't noticed." The Kommandant replied dryly.   
Ulmann hardly noticed when Zeinik approached.   
"Excuse me sir?" He said to the Kommandant.   
"Yes?" The Kommandant said.   
"We believe the heavy rains weakened the ground beneath the castle and the foundations, which were already weak from the number of tunnels." Ulmann had never heard the young boy say so much at once.  
"Have you managed to inform the authorities?" The Kommandant asked.   
"Not yet sir but Hauptman Ulmann has organized us and we just sent three men to the town to find a working telephone. We're housing the injured in that building over there and we've just started to clear the rubble."  
"I see. Is the Kommandantur courtyard being used?"  
"No sir. It's cut off, but we have established a reliable vocal communication system and we're sharing our resources."  
"You seem to have been managing well."  
"We couldn't have done it without Ulmann sir. He's been excellent, we were a panicked rabble before he organized us."  
"I see, thank you...?"  
"Zeinik sir."  
"Thank you Zeinik." The Kommandant turned to face Ulmann. "I'm very impressed Ulmann." He said, moving off to inspect the hut. He suddenly turned back. "Where is Major Mohn?"  
Ulmann and Zeinik looked at each other. In unison they pointed to the rubble. The Kommandant sighed and continued towards the hut.   
"Zeinik?" Ulmann asked.   
"Yes sir." The boy replied.   
"What is this reliable communication system you mentioned?"  
"We're shouting at each other."

***

Colonel Preston looked up as the footsteps grew closer.   
"Hello?" He called. Mohn jumped awake, casting off his blanket. "Relax Major, nothing's happening."  
Mohn was still tense but relaxed a little. He watched as a face appeared at the gap.  
"Colonel?" The face said.   
"Downing?" Colonel Preston picked up the candle as Downing, Player and Carter emerged through the hole.   
"Sir." Said Player.   
"Player, Downing, Simon." He said, careful not to wake either the still sleeping George or the just going back to sleep Mohn.  
"He looks almost normal when he's asleep." Dick commented.  
"Hmm, I'm worried about that." Preston replied.   
"Why?"  
"I think he has a concussion so-"  
"Mama?" Mohn twisted in his sleep. "Mama, wo bist du?"  
"What the?" Simon asked.   
"Mama!"  
"He's actually calling for his mother?" Dick grinned. "This isn't a dream?"  
"No, it's actually happening." Simon grinned as Mohn settled back down.  
They grinned at each other.  
"This is amazing."

***

"Morning Mama's boy." Dick smirked as Mohn stretched. The German frowned.   
"I beg your pardon?" He asked.   
Dick rolled back on what he'd claimed as his bed. He pretended to toss and turn "Mama!" He mimicked. "Mama!"  
Mohn flushed.  
"What's your Mama like Major?" Tim chipped in.   
"Nothing to do with you." Mohn snapped.   
"Easy Mama's boy."  
They continued in this vein for what felt like, and probably was, hours. Preston could see Mohn rapidly becoming angry.  
"Was your Mama sweet Major?" Simon smirked.  
"Was your Cathy sweet Mr Carter?"  
"At least I taught her about sex not the other way around."  
Mohn snarled, taking up a stone and running at him. Preston just barely caught him around the chest.   
"That's enough!" He said. "All of you! You're officers not school boys."  
George felt a little sorry for Mohn as he sloped off to his piece of masonry. He didn't say anything for hours.

***

Zeinik pushed Ulmann down onto a seat by the fire.  
"Let me find some dry clothes for you sir." He said, rooting around in the crate that was in one of the few dry spots. He returned with a dry shirt and jacket.   
Ulmann stripped his own ones and handed them to Zeinik. The clothes were warm and the blanket around his shoulders was more comfortable than anything the last 48 hours had provided. The rain hadn't let up and anything waterproof, including his coat, was on the roof. They'd received word that a vehicle with supplies and even a doctor was being sent and the towns people had been flooding in with help, blankets, spare clothing, even some food. The doctor had seen the injured, a few had even taken them into their homes. The Kommandant had taken over the organization and insisted Ulmann rest, so here he was. A small bowl of soup was set in front of him, provided by the locals, and with the warmth from soup and the glow of the fire and slowly found his head nodding.   
"Go to sleep sir, I'll wake you if anything-" Zeinik cut off at a loud crash and a hiss. "Happens..."  
They ran back into the rain and stared at the water now seeping into the opened cellar and through the wall. They looked at each other. No rest for the wicked.

***

Simon blinked awake. Looking around he saw a flickering flame outside. He hurriedly pulled his blanket up and climbed through the hole. Sitting on the small shelf of rubble was Major Mohn, apparently awake. He looked exhausted, his eyes rimmed red. Simon awkwardly made his way up to where Mohn was sitting.   
"You alright?" He asked after a moment. Mohn looked up like he hadn't realised Simon was there.   
"Fine, shouldn't I be?" He replied.   
"You're sitting on your own looking broody."  
Mohn chuckled. They sat in awkward silence for a moment. Mohn flexed his shoulder and groaned.   
"You ok?" Simon asked again.   
"Fine. Just my shoulder."  
"You've hurt your shoulder as well?" Simon sighed.   
"No. Well technically, I got shot in Crete, the damp and the cold make it ache."  
"My sympathies."  
The silence started again.   
"Why are you out here Major?" Simon frowned.   
"I... I had a nightmare."  
Simon raised his eyebrows.  
"What?" Mohn asked.   
"Sorry it's just... I never imagined you to have nightmares."  
"Do you have nightmares Mr Carter?" Mohn asked.   
"No. Not often anyway. Sometimes I dream I'm in this tiny room and I can't get out and- hey are you ok?" Simon looked at Mohn, concerned.  
"Fine." Mohn swallowed. "It's just... all that rock... on top of us and any second it could just..."  
Simon smiled sympathetically. "Claustrophobic?"  
Mohn nodded. He didn't pull away when Carter wrapped his blanket around his shoulders.  
"I'm sorry for saying that about Cathy." Mohn said suddenly. Simon looked at him.   
"Yeah, I'm sorry about making fun of your mum." Simon extended his hand. "Friends?"  
Mohn paused. Something here, in the flickering flame was affecting him. "Friends." Simon's touch was warm on his cold hands. The flame caught the golden tones in his hair, his eyes so very, very blue. Simon watched him just as intently as he realized the strange feeling in his chest. He moved closer, their lips touching briefly. Ala staccato. And then again, longer, deeper. Horst closed his eyes as he leant closer to Simon, they're bodies as close as possible. Simon pushed him back to the wall, sitting between his legs and gently parting Horst's lips with his tongue. He slid his hands into Horst's hair and the taller man ran his good hand down his chest. Horst tried to stifle his moaning as the kisses moved to his neck. He really needed to find a brothel  if he was getting hard from a man. Simon noticed him reaching for his flies.   
"What's this?" He asked playfully. He gave Mohn's dick a rub through the cloth. Mohn gasped. Slowly, painfully slowly, Simon unbuttoned Horst's flies. He slid Mohn's underpants down, the feeling of freedom after the restricting trousers almost as amazing as the kisses.  
"Isn't that pretty?" Simon smirked. He placed a hand on each of Mohn's hip bones before lightly kissing his balls, his tongue quickly moving upwards. He hummed, the vibrations moving through Horst's shaft sending him mad. When Simon finally took him in his mouth he had to bite his lips to keep quite. He tried to buck further into the moist heat but Simon's hands stopped him. His tongue swirled around the head, teasing his slit. His balls felt tight and he was so very close...   
"Simon." He hissed, fumbling for a handkerchief. "Stop." Simon looked up in surprise and he seized his cock. One, two, three pumps and he was finished, Simon's shoulder muffling his moans. Somehow, quite without his knowledge, his hands were inside Simon's trousers. The man leant on him as he stroked him, occasionally he strokes a thumb over his head.  
"Just a bit faster." Simon whisperd and Horst complies, he could tell Simon was close to the edge. He came not long after, moaning against Mohn. He moved them away from the sticky puddle and pulls Mohn close. Mohn curled next to him, his body heat soaking through the clothes. He covered them both in their blankets and let Mohn pillow his head on his arm.  
"Thank you." He said. Mohn just tucked his head into Simon's chest and 'hmmmmd'. He was warm and comfortable and so very sleepy...

***

They were awoken by a loud crash from somewhere above them. The candle had flickered out and the blankets were wet.   
"Simon! Major! Where are you?"  
Mohn hissed as they bolted upright. Simon scrambled through the hole and cried out. The water was up to his shoulders and rising. He kicked wildly and gripped at the hole as the water began to spill over. Mohn pulled him out as he failed.  
"What happened?" Simon yelled.   
"Water main!" Preston replied. "Help us with Brent!"  
At some point Mohn had had the bright idea to tie Brent to a stretcher and they pulled him through the small hole.  
"What are we going to do now?" Tim asked as he splashed into the freezing water.  
"Walk and talk, this water's freezing." Dick said.   
Colonel Preston held the candle ahead of them as the others pulled George's stretcher along.  
"We should go up." Mohn said.  
Dick nodded. "We came down up on the left, let's try and get up there."  
They trudged along, trying to maintain they're balance against the fast current, until they came to the hole Dick had come through. Preston climbed through first before helping Simon up. They pulled Dick through the gap and together with Tim and Mohn they lifted George's stretcher through. Tim clambered up and Mohn stepped on the stone they'd been using as a step ladder. There was a crack, far louder than the first one and a piece of stone fell from the wall beside them. Simon saw it strike Mohn's head and watched as the man tumbled back. Before he realised he'd leapt back into the current.

***

The Kommandant looked up from his pile of rocks as the men rumbled up the track and deposited crates of supplies by the pile that had become a lean-to that had become a building shape that was now a shack. Aid had begun arriving about an hour ago. There were extra men, a doctor, mediöcal supplies and blankets in somewhat plentiful supply. The dead had been removed, the injured loaded into trucks bound for a hospital. Everything had been looking as though it might be ok. Until the water main had burst at least. Most of the men they'd dragged from the rubble had been half drowned and freezing cold.  
"Sir?" A voice said next to him said. It came from a tall, slim man with blonde hair.  
"Yes, can I help you?" He asked.   
"I was just wondering if I can help?"  
"You're the doctor aren't you?"  
"Yes sir. Hauptman Mohn sir."  
The Kommandant looked at him for the first time and did a double take, the man was the spitting image of Mohn.  
"You're a relation of Mohn's?"  
"Yes sir. His brother, we haven't found him yet. I want to help."  
The Kommandant nodded. That sounded like a Mohn.  
"I thought you were on the Russian front."  
"I was on leave, I heard there was an emergency here. I volunteered to come."  
"Very brave. Choose a pile of rocks, start digging."  
Mohn did and settled into his routine. Ulmann shared a look with the Kommandant.  
"Are you close to your brother Mohn?" He asked.   
"Very." The young man nodded.  
"I'm assuming that's why you volunteered."  
"Yes. Well, mostly."  
"Mostly?"  
"Yes." He licked his lips. "Our brother's dead, our sister went missing last year. We're a close family, we don't want to lose another member."  
"That's... very loyal of you." The Kommandant said.  
"Horst would do the same for me."  
"Sir!"  
The three looked around to see Zeinik helping Colonel Preston out of the rubble. Lieutenant Player and Captin Downing followed, bearing Captain Brent on a stretcher.  
The Kommandant looked at Mohn.  
"We'll deal with this Mohn."  
The young man looked worried but moved off.   
"Do you think we'll find Mohn sir?" Ulmann asked.   
"I think we'll find him, I'm not sure if he'll be alive."

***

Dick staggered into the burning light. Now that they were out the rain drove down hard. The wind swept around them and he shivered. Someone took George from him and wrapped him in a blanket. They sat him on what seemed to be an upturned crate.   
"Herr?" He looked up at the man asking his name, then did a double take.   
"Major Mohn?" He asked.   
"Hauptman Mohn. Now, I'm told you were submerged for some time, how do you feel?"  
Dick blinked. "Cold. Tired."  
Hauptman Mohn felt his skin. "You're cool, but I think you should be alright. I'll get you some dry clothes."  
"How's George?" Tim asked.   
"George?" Mohn replied.   
"Captain Brent. The one on the stretcher."  
"Ah. His hip is broken, the rest of him is fine."  
"Good."  
"Have you found Mohn yet?"  
Mohn whipped around. "Found him? You know where he is?"  
"We were with him." Preston explained. "He fell back into the current."  
Mohn went white. He looked to the NCO beside him.   
"Where was he?" He asked.   
"To the left of where we were. About 50 yards down, down a hole. The current went back the other way." Preston's steady delivery seemed to calm the young German. "There was another man with him, small and blonde in an RAF uniform."  
The NCO ran back to Ulmann and there was a flurry of activity. Preston patted Mohn on the shoulder and smiled. The German returned to the crates and began tending to the various new wounds. It gave him something to focus on besides Horst.  
 _Come back to me Horst._ He thought. _Mama couldn't bear to lose you._ I  _couldn't bear to lose you._

***

Simon groped wildly for Mohn. He vaguely saw the man whooshing down the hall and kicked for him. He just managed to grab him before he went under. He found a small platform that hadn't yet been submerged in the rising water and lay Mohn on his back. He checked his pulse, finding it to be fast, and listened to his chest. He was relieved to hear him breathing, though he was unconscious which wouldn't help. Mohn's mouth was open, almost inviting. He didn't quite know why but he lent in and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.  
He couldn't quite work out why he'd jumped back in after Mohn. He couldn't work out why he'd given him a blowjob either. There was something about the man here. The pale light shone from his white skin and was soaked up by his black hair. The man didn't even stir as Simon brushed that hair from his forehead. His temple was bleeding, the blood shockingly bright on his pale face.  
Icy water woke him from his reverie. He looked at the water levels, risen a good 6 inches. He removed Mohn's belt and tied it to his own before slipping his arms around Mohn's waist and paddling them into the icy water. It was hard to keep Mohn's head above the water and swim at the same time. Somewhere, far above, he heard bangs and crashes but he was focused on keeping Mohn upright. He cried out when he hit a dead end. Then he panicked, the water was rising fast and it wasn't going anywhere. He tried to swim back but the current was too strong. The crashes were closer now, he could hear voices. He took a deep breath as the water closed over his head. He covered Mohn's nose and mouth quickly. He was amazed how peaceful it was under the water, the only sound was the water. He let a few bubbles out of his burning lungs and tried to breath into Mohn's too. The voices were even closer now, the light snaking through the gaps. His head was light and he dimly saw Mohn's lips turning blue. He breathed into him again, holding there even when his air ran out. It was something real as his vision dimmed and faded, blood screaming in his head. He seized the hand that grabbed his arm.

***

Ulmann and Mohn pulled the two from the water. The Luftwaffe officer dropped to his knees beside his brother and pulled the belts apart. He placed a hand on his chest and breathed a sigh of relief. They were both breathing, two hearts beating firmly beneath his fingertips. He wrapped them both in blankets and gently checked their heads, necks and torsos. Finding nothing to stop them being moved they were moved close to the fire. Mohn gently cleaned Carter's wounds and left Corporal Lorten to change his clothes. Then he turned to his brother. Horst had two long gashes on his face, his wrist was strapped up with a tie but at an angle that made him think it was broken. He was covered in cuts and bruises but he seemed to be mostly fine. He moaned deeply, his thickly lashed eyes opening.  
" Franz," he asked. "Was ist passiert?"   
Ulmann smiled as he watched the younger Mohn tenderly cleaning his brother's cuts, splinting his wrist and helping him into dry clothes. He'd never seen the older man smile so honestly, weightlessly. They sat for some time together, Horst leaning on Franz's shoulder until there were new casualties. Player, Preston, Downing and Brent seemed less hostile towards Mohn. Simon Carter actually moved to sit by him. He left the men to their conversation and moved over to the Kommandant. The cellars had all been cleared after 5 long days. Of the 1479 prisoners and staff only 556 had survived. He sat on a pile of rubble as a cart rolled past. 923 lives on his conscience.  
"You did your best Ulmann." The Kommandant seems to read his mind.  
"923 people is a lot sir."  
"True." The older man nodded. "But 1479 would have been even more."  
Ulmann smiled sadly. Tiredly.   
"Go to sleep Ulmann." His senior officer says. "I'll take care of the formalities."  
Ulmann, his eyelids already heavy, wandered to the sleeping shack and drops down, not even bothering with a blanket. The rain slowed and he curled up, sleep taking him quickly. He smiled faintly as he did, 923 was a much smaller number than 1479.

***

Horst looked up as Simon sat next to him.  
"Alright?" He said.   
"Fine. You?" Horst replied   
"Yeah, pretty good."  
They sat in silence for a moment. Somehow Simon picked up that Horst wanted to say something in private.   
"Want some space?" He asked.  
Mohn nodded and they made their way to a pile around the back.  
"Franz said you saved me." Horst said.   
"I jumped in after you, it's not quite the same thing."  
"Why did you?"  
Simon paused. "I don't know..." as he looked at Horst he realised he could never really explain why, but that Horst knew that.   
The German smiled. "Thank you." He said.   
"Any time."  
"I don't just mean for saving me. I meant... well, thank you for everything. Simon."  
"You too. Horst."  
Franz Mohn came around the corner.  
"Sorry, am I interrupting?"  
"No." Simon said quickly.   
"Not at all." Horst added.   
Understanding briefly lit Franz's face.  He handed Simon a note.   
"I'm a little concerned about your breathing. It sounds as though there could be some fluid left. You should get checked out."  
Simon and Horst nodded and moved over to the hospital  truck where they were loading George Brent on. Horst climbed the ladder and sat beside his stretcher. Simon went to follow but Franz caught his arm. The young German looked at him intensely for a moment before he spoke.   
"My brother likes you."  
"I like him too."  
The blonde watched him before letting go of his arm. He smiled and nodded as Simon began to climb into the truck. He barely heard Franz's voice.   
"Look after him Mr Carter."


End file.
